Guns 'N' Boners
by Fallen Lithium
Summary: If you've ever wondered how far Falco Lombardi would go to exact revenge, wonder no more. This crazy avian will go to any lengths possible to make sure he's pleased with the end result.
1. Matilda Style

**Guns 'N' Boners**

**Fallen Lithium**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Fox, Smash Bros, or anything Nintendo, Konami, or SEGA related. This story is for entertainment, not profit.  
**

"Sshhh, shut up!"

"Me?! _You're _the one who… _yowch_!!"

Fox slapped a hand over the lupine's screechy yowl that came after he stomped on his tail.

"Do you want us to get caught? Just _can it_!"

Saying nothing, Wolf slouched forwards moodily, making slow headway for the door to Fox's barracks. At this point, the lupine had memorized the path to his secret lover's room. From here… past two doors, hang a left past the bathroom, and _voila_.

For fear of having made too much noise already, the pair was creeping at a snail's pace through the cold corridors of the Great Fox. Coolant pipes and onboard computers hissed and whirred lazily as almost all of the crew slept peacefully. Gentle cracks could be seen in the ship's cool, steel floors. Tiny windows presented a slightly unnerving view of the black hole. Thankfully, the Great Fox's super-intelligent onboard navigation system was forging a safe, steady path around this minor annoyance.

Fox McCloud was dressed lightly, kind of like the undecorated interior of his cruiser (Oh, we simply _must_ dress this place up a bit!). He wore nothing underneath a pair of flimsy silk pyjama bottoms that never failed to draw a horny companion's eye. Many-a time he had snuck around with Wolf quietly through the night. Every time, he wore the same silk Pee-jay's. And never, _ever_, did those bottoms fail to draw a wandering, lusty eye as it hung loosely off of strong hips and…

God, just thinking about the way Wolf talked him when they were… doing that… made him horny. This wasn't good… It wasn't…

_CRASH_!

Wolf's hand reflexively flew to cover his own mouth, even though he didn't do anything. He watched as Fox lay, slightly dizzy and confused, over a pile of empty soup cans.

To anyone else, that would be merely perplexing. But for Wolf, those cans were pure terror.

The cans marked the entrance to Falco's room.

When the avian had first placed the cans in a neat pyramid in front of the sliding door, his team mates just gave him that "psychiatric help" stare.

While the air conditioning blew through the ship, Falco had explained that such a primitive system of security was in fact, quite effective. The noise would jolt him out of his sleep, he said, if anyone happened to be sneaking around in the dark.

He'd also rather ironically added that no one would be sneaking around in the dark while the beloved battleship was floating through space, right?

The memory still fresh in his mind, the vulpine opened his mouth to curse just as the door swung open.

"Whuzzat?!" cried a still-asleep Falco. The master pilot was waving what Wolf assumed was supposed to be a gun. It was actually a plush toy of Fox, complete with the headgear he wore on missions. He had a strange cloth mask covering his eyes, and was waving the doll around wildly. Of course, practically by-law, Falco just _had _to sleep naked, and Fox just rolled his eye at the swinging appendage of a sleep walker.

"Gitouttaher!!" Falco screeched, almost un-intelligibly.

"Motherfucker…" Fox cursed quietly.

"Huh?!" Suddenly, Falco was stock-still, and Wolf's fur jumped on its ends. Had he woken up? Was it time for the legendary confrontation?

His question was answered as Falco's still unconscious body suddenly fell ass-backwards back into his bedroom, and the door gave a convincing swish as he collapsed from view.

No one moved until the encouraging sound of contented snores drifted through the heavy-duty door.

Shaking his head, Fox disentangled himself from the goodness of Whole Grain Chicken Noodle Soup and motioned for Wolf to follow him again.

"Does he always sleepwalk?" a curious lupine asked.

"Fairly often. We found him with his head stuck in a bowl of salad in the fridge one morning," was the flat reply.

"Wow," the Star Wolf leader chucked, "and you--"

"Shut up." Fox hissed for the umpteenth time that night.

"Come onnnn," Wolf smirked as Fox's door swished closed behind them. "You _promised _we could do that! You said, "Yes, Wolfie, sounds hot!"!"

"First of all, I said no such thing. _That _sounds disgusting and horribly demeaning. Second, I've never called you Wolfie!"

Wolf rolled his eye again. "Fine," he conceded. "So you caught me on my lie."

"There was nothing to catch" Fox said with a cheeky grin. "You handed yourself over."

"Kinky."

Wolf surveyed the room he'd spent so much time fucking his forbidden lover in. It was warm and inviting, yet it also felt like it was harbouring some strange, dark secret. Pictures of a younger Fox lovingly draped around his father hung about the room. There was a large poster for some indie band Wolf had never heard of. A decrepit old laser pistol lay propped up in a frame on Fox's bedside table. The first time he'd been in here, Fox had explained to him that it was the first gun his father ever gave him.

Others might find that as something of a creepy way to bond with a parent, but Wolf didn't see it, given as he had no recollection of having a family.

When Fox McCloud came into his picture, it had been as a worst enemy, the kind of person Wolf had been trained to hate his entire life. There had been insults, dogfights in space, and invasions of territory. Yet, Wolf had never felt less compelled to help when the Star Fox team was stuck in some kind of bind.

Many would be quick to call that the start of a friendship, but it was really more of a mutual respect. After the incident with the Aparoids, the dogfights stopped being about murder and for Wolf, about collecting his next cheque. They became about respect, marking boundaries. Hell, each party had admitted that they look forward to the space battles. They had become fun.

Fox and Wolf already knew that they had fun together before they even spoke face-to-face. Communication lines through Arwings and Wolfens, cheques with huge credit numbers, and bias over relatives long dead blinded the visions of both of them. Alright, so maybe that last one was a stretch, but Wolf knew that he cared about Fox before either of them knew the other did.

Which might explain Wolf's sudden flare of jealous range when Cornerian news crews chased Fox through a torrential downpour in the streets, pining for information about a new relationship he was in. The vulpine had hidden his face under the hood of his black trench coat.

(The _sexy _trench coat)

Wolf remembered how his angry pulse had quickened, how he couldn't take his eye off of the television even as an advertisement for industrial strength deodorant had attempted to invade his wallet. He remembered clutching the pillows of the couch in his shitty apartment so tightly that cotton began to leak out of the seams.

What made Wolf even more angry than (his) Fox being stolen from him, taking him away from their fun time, was how confused he was about why he felt how he did. He wasn't supposed to be pissed off about it, but he was.

Two days later, photos of Fox getting his ass grabbed by his new companion only served to make him angry and horny as hell.

Even more stress-inducing than the anger was the sexual _frustration _of it all.

At night, he would dream about pounding the vulpine so hard that his body left a contour in the bed. Springs broke, sheets flew, and sweat poured down both of their furry bodies.

These were the dreams, of course.

The mismatched duo had their first… encounter at a niche coffee shop in Corneria's seedy downtown district. Fire's burned from garbage cans and all of the brown buildings had a minimum of two broken windows each. Fox had been there with his companion. The vile creature had stolen away to a bathroom.

Upon seeing eying Wolf across the room, Fox strode across in two quick paces, until he was towering above Wolf at his table, casually skimming through some political satire magazine.

"No camera's here," Fox had whispered.

"None," Wolf replied.

Each animal was silent for a moment.

"He'll be back any minute," Fox muttered. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny notebook held together by a thin, nicely painted white wire.

(powers of observation)

Before O'Donnell could even ask Fox if they're attraction was indeed attraction, the vulpine was gone. The lupine had slowly opened the crumpled piece of paper in his hand.

**SEC-2149-0417-0982**

The hint was subtle. As a bounty hunter, Wolf knew how to crack easy codes like this.

The 'SEC' was Fox's casual method of informing him of the Great Fox's security code.

Three days after that cataclysmic (to Wolf's twisted subconscious) event, Star Fox and Star Wolf met in the air again.

The good guys had been called to an abandoned tropical island somewhere in a region known only as the "Great Sea" to help clean the wreckage of a demolished island. Star Wolf had arrived right on schedule, hoping to pillage the remains before clean-up crews arrived.

"Wolf," Leon's strangled voice came through the Wolfen's obsolete communicator. "We got SF company."

A simple 90 degree turn sent Wolf face-to-face with Fox in his shiny new Arwing. An unspoken message was sent between the bounty hunter and the mercenary, and Wolf barked into the speaker.

"Leon. Panther. Deal with the rest of Fox's team. We're taking this up to the skies."

The leader didn't need to see his team mates nods to know that they understood. "Roger, Captain," Leon told them flatly. "Can I capture and torture them?" he added hopefully.

"_No_," was Wolf's heavy reply. "Just keep him distracted so Fox and I can do this."

With that, the fighters were off into the stars. Wolf turned off Star Wolf's private channel and opened a public line to Fox.

"Get it?" Fox asked immediately.

Wolf knew what he was referring to.

"Yeah," he shot back. "You weren't all that stealthy about it."

An unexpected laser blast suddenly rocked the Wolfen and caused Wolf to hit his head off of the roof.

"Wolf… don't diss my stealth," Fox couldn't help but chuckle faintly over the channel as he spoke.

The lupine discreetly flipped some switches on the console, causing a warm hum to register within the Wolfen's bowels.

"Next week, ten thirty at night," Fox spoke, before the Arwing suddenly took a deep barrel-roll to the left, dodging the plasma shot that darted across the stars.

Now he'd been given a specific time? Oh, how much Wolf O'Donnell had enjoyed that.

Wolf's daydreams were shattered hastily as a rough hand gripped his jacket and tossed him in the general direction of Fox's bed. The mercenary's aim was off by just a bit as the missile collided with the bed frame and crashed to the floor.

He barely had time to register the stars dancing in his vision before he was yanked - hard - onto the bed itself and Fox had glomped him.

"Oof!" he wheezed at the landing.

Fox ignored that and pressed his hungry lips to the other's. His desire was peaking hire than usual at night. Wolf found himself grateful for easy-access silk bottoms with no cloth shields underneath.

(Dirty dirty so dirty)

The groaning got louder, the sensual clawing became more vicious, and the already tortured springs protested desperately.

"Unhf… mrrmmm… natch… peaches… so many peaches… makes me sleepy…" Falco murmured, while he was, in fact, asleep.

A particularly loud growl startled him straight awake. Too bad his security cans had no such effect on his ridiculous sleepwalking.

"Hello?" the bird called quietly as he tore of his night mask. "Damn it, what the hell is that noise?"

He was answered by a repeat of the disturbing noise, only louder and somehow more frenzied. Quietly, he slid out from his bed sheets and fished around on the ground in the dark until he found his favourite bathrobe.

Slipping the garment on, he opened his door, startling a similarly clothed Slippy, who looked petrified.

"Can you hear those noises?!" the frog whined. "It's so scary around here at night."

"They're coming from Fox's room," Peppy murmured. The exhausted hare was dangling a source of light in his left paw.

"Why do you have a medieval lantern?" Falco asked curiously.

"My flashlight's broken. And you bastards all laughed when I paid two hundred bucks for this thing on eScam."

With a shrug, the two pilots allowed the retiree to lead them through the corridors of the Great Fox.

"Mrf," Falco yawned. "Fox is probably just having a nightmare or something. Can we just go back to bed?"

Slippy fixed him with a strange look. "You - of _all _people - aren't even slightly curious as to what's going on in there?"

"Not particularly."

Desperate growls rushed through the thick material of Fox's locked door.

"Huh, Fox makes two very distinct growling noises when he sleeps," Peppy muttered, suspicion tainting his normally calm voice. "It almost sounds as if he's getting his bone on or something."

Just as Slippy opened his mouth to question the hare's use of modern slang, Falco's eyes suddenly slanted with rage and he rushed the door, pounding viciously.

"Fox, open up!"

* * *

"_Fox, open up_!"

Falco.

In the midst of Wolf's ministrations, both animals froze. How the hell had their noises woken him up when the stupid cans did nothing?

"Damn it!" Fox whispered frantically. "Wolf, under the bed!"

"What a stupid idea!" Wolf hissed, carefully hoisting the vulpine off of his sweaty body. "Could you think of a stupider place for me to hide!"

"Unless you have a better idea, get the fuck under the bed!"

Unfortunately, Wolf didn't have a better idea, so he scrambled quickly under his lover's bed, which had surprisingly high posts.

Wolf turned an ear to the world above and relaxed as he could feel Fox's weight shit from the bed. He watched him pick up his silks from the floor and slid them over his powerful legs. Wolf resisted the urge to whine as that lovely behind was covered.

He had to remind himself of the predicament he was in. Which would they kill him for first: screwing Fox, or being an enemy onboard their ship? It could go either way.

The voice of the lovely Fox drifted to his tattered ears. The vulpine had put on his best tired voice, asking. "What's up guys?" he added a convincing yawn. "It's one in the morning."

"We were going to ask you that," Wolf heard the Great Fox mechanic reply. "You're making scary noises."

(_Sexy _noises)

His eye twitched slightly as he saw the clawed feet of an angry Falco step into the room. "Is there somebody _in _here, Fox?"

"I was _sleeping_. We're over a hundred thousand feet in the air. Who could be in here?"

_He's going to look under here, _Wolf thought in a panic. _There's no one else anybody could hide in here_.

As expected, Falco wasn't convinced. Wolf knew the kneel was coming before it did. Thinking on his feet, he spread his arms and attached himself to the underside of Fox's bed, _Matilda _style.

The suspicious, red-rimmed eye of an avian darted viciously under the bed. Wolf heard Fox suck in a nervous breath. When Falco said nothing, the vulpine spoke:

"See, Falco? Nobody here. What's going on?"

"What were all of those noises?" Peppy crooned.

"I have no idea what you're talking about!"

"We could hear them!"

"Growling, scratching, hissing… We thought you were having an orgy in here."

"Shut up."

"You're all being ridiculous."

"Explain!"

"I'm trying to play _Fire Emblem_!"

"Calm down, now."

All of the voices fell silent, impatiently awaiting an answer.

"Uh… bad dream?" Fox offered.

(Nice save)

"Well, could you try to be less noisy when you are dreaming?" Peppy said hotly. "We want sleep!"

"Sure," the vulpine replied, as if he could control himself in his sleep. As if he was even asleep.

Wolf's arms we're being to stiffen. He needed down from the bed frame, but that would draw too much attention to them. He silently thanked the higher powers that he didn't believe in as the footsteps began, loud and taking a steady decrescendo down the hall. The lupine was ready to let himself down, but stiffened instantly when someone spoke. Falco, again.

"Do you need someone to stay the night?"

"No, no, no… no… no! Thanks though!" Fox said brightly. "I'm sure I'll be fine, really."

"Well…" The avian didn't seem convinced.

There was no sound for a heart-stopping moment, followed by a gasp from Fox.

"I wanted to wait, but now seemed the right time," Falco said quietly. "Think about it." With that, he tore of down the hall, talons scraping against the ground.

Why was he running? Wolf didn't know, but he couldn't betray the groan that flew out as he let himself drop to the floor.

As he crawled out from under, he was met with Fox's condescending glare. What did that look even _mean_? His deep blue eyes were narrowed in an almost..._hateful _manner.

(What did I do)

"You have to go," Fox told him flatly.

Needless to say, the Star Wolf leader was slightly confused. "What? Why?"

Fox wore a mask of stone, a far cry from the expression of desire he was exhibiting not long ago. "You saw that. We almost got caught. I'm not taking the chance. Leave."

"Hey, it's okay," Wolf rose to his feet and reached out to his lover. "It's alright. We dodged the bullet." Wolf clutched the orange arm and tried to pull the younger man close.

"No!" Fox suddenly shouted, ripping himself from his grasp.

Now he was _really _confused, and was beginning to get pissed off. "Why are you being like this all of sudden. If you're trying to end it, just say so."

"I'm not trying to end anything," Fox said, failing to sound reassuring. "I just need you to go now."

Wolf was at lost for words. It made sense to feel enraged, but he felt no such rage. He merely bent over to pick up his clothes and struggled to pull them on under the scrunity of Fox's stone mask.

"Whatever," he mumbled as he stepped out into the hallway. After a quick scan of either end, he decided it would be unwise to head in the direction of the others' bedrooms, so he stole off down the opposite way. Several turns and two staircases would take him to the Wolfen.

* * *

Fox stood stock-still until he couldn't hear the footsteps anymore.

(My life is walking away)

His hand was indented and it felt like his tightly enclosed fingers were bleeding.

* * *

Wolf flicked switches and pulled knobs to start up his brand new "Wolfen II". Even with the new cruiser, the actions were memorized. Pull this, turn that, push such and such. His eye wasn't even on the console. Everything looked blurry. Wolf wasn't mad. He was upset. Very, very upset. Fox had never just kicked him out like that. He thought he could sense mortification behind Fox's stone glare, but he'd never been that great at reading people.

The lupine found himself wishing that all of the galaxy's best bars were open this early in the morning. Weekday last call ended at midnight.

Oh well, the mini-fridge next to his bed was always open, and 'last call' was not a part of the bartender's dictionary.

_At least Fox remembered to open the bay doors for me. Heh, probably couldn't have been any more excited to open those fuckers up._

The Wolfen II rushed away from the Great Fox, undetected. The ship's awesome camoflauge system did its job well, not that anybody besides Fox was awake to see it.

He became aware of moisture running down the hand that clenched the control mechanism.

_Oh dear fuck_, Wolf thought. _I've never done this before_.

He was crying.


	2. My Little Garden Salad

**Guns 'N' Boners**

Indeed, it was a simple time. It was a better time. A time where there was no sneaking around. No hiding in bedrooms, bathroom stalls, or Kenny Chesney's tour bus...

_Good God, weed was fun_.

And yet, while the simple, better time might have been easier, the hard times were the most _fun_. The thrill of getting caught, the sneaking, Kenny Chesney's tour bus...

_Weed was such fun._

Fox McCloud had never contemplated doing drugs before. In fact, he'd always been very opposed to them. He'd arrested people who killed their hookers during the heroin rush. His team had brought in those who robbed convenience stores with noses red from the pressures of sniffing cocaine. 'It was just pot,' Wolf had told him. 'It's better for you than cigarettes,' the hopeful lupine had added it. And so, afraid of being stuck in a rut, took his first hit. So sure, it made them hornier, and it made them act stupid, and it made them laugh for hours on end about absolutely nothing. No major damage. He'd _never _had fun with Falco like this. Not once that he could recall. Falco had that 'reformed badass' sense of fun. He _knew _how he used to have fun. Fox guessed that having less fun was the consequence of turning a new leaf.

Now Fox sat alone in his room, a joint held lazily between his two strongest points. It was a time of contemplation, worrying...

...and trying to forget about it.

That's why he sat there, doing something he never would have done before meeting Wolf. The vulpine was actually surprised that the weed was making him think clearer. There was a strong grasp present of the situation at hand. It was pretty dire. Catastrophic, even. It came with the fear that if a decision wasn't made soon, a tear could be ripped open in the very fabric of the universe.

"I want cookies."

Wolf had also introduced him to Oreos, a wondrous piece of magic that he was amazed he'd never had before. Fishing around in this bedside table, he found the bag and struggled to tear it out amongst the old photos, weaponry, and the ring that just fell on the floor.

He clutched the bag of cookies tightly, staring at the bomb that was now resting lazily on the steel floor. It stared back, smirking in a defiant matter.

_I should crush it right now_.

The ring was beautiful, he had to admit. Big, shiny, glittering stone. Solid gold band.

What wasn't to love about it? Why, who it was from, of course.

What a strange time be almost caught having an affair. Why would that idiot Falco give him a proposal like that when he had his secret lover hiding underneath his bed?

To be fair, Falco had no idea about what was hiding under the bed.

Still, what a _jackass_!

Carefully, as if handling hot flame, he scooped up the ring off the ground and dropped rather unceremoniously into his bedside table and slammed it shut. Even with the damned object out of his view, it was still lingering behind his eyelids.

(Close your eyes come on I dare you)

He stuffed and Oreo into his mouth, crushing it quickly with his sharp mandibles. Just then, he remembered what Wolf told him...

(Gotta open it and like the cream its better that way)

This was a useful piece of information, and yes, it _was _better that way. Even as the white cream slid down his throat, it occured to him that Wolf's instructions on how to eat an Oreo weren't the memory he was trying to conjure up. It had been pertaining to the 'relationship' they had. Affair. Whatever it wanted to known as. There was a vague recollection of taking a risky trip to a cafe one sunny day. They sat at an outdoors table, more to keep an eye out for Falco than anything.

"Wolf, this is making me extremely nervous."

"I just wanted to have lunch with you for _once_."

"I know, it's just..."

"Don't worry about it. We aren't gonna get caught. Can you just enjoy some food with me? Fucking please?"

Fox just sighed and poked miserably at the linguine he'd been brought.

One look at that face made Wolf's heart sink with guilt. It was a new feeling, one that the vulpine had brought out in him.

(Kindness patience compassion goodhearted)

"This whole Falco thing is really scaring isn't it..." Wolf looked down at his feet through the glass table.

"Yeah..."

"You know, you could just..." Wolf gulped down a nervous ball that had lodged itself in his throat. "...break up with him?"

Fox's head snapped up at that, a noodle caught between his lips. It was comical, but Wolf wasn't laughing. Fox noticed this, and sucked it into his mouth before speaking further.

"Wolf, I can't do it and you're aware of that."

"Well, why the hell not? Obviously you weren't supposed to be with him if you're sneaking around with me!"

"Shut up, Wolf! The only _reason _I'm even in public with you is because the press doesn't care what I do anymore!"

"What the fuck's that supposed to mean?"

"If people..." Fox looked around the public cafe, where people chatted aimably, paying them no mind. "If _my team _finds out what we're doing, what do you think that will mean for me? Especially concerning Falco!"

"I..."

"Falco gives me stability, and I love him but I _hate _being with him so much. Don't you think I wish that I could be with you instead? But for the sake of my team, I have to be with Falco."

"So, I'm just a side dish?" Wolf asked, sounding almost calm.

"Pretty much."

Wolf grabbed his paw.

In the present, a chill ran down Fox's spine. This was the _moment_. This was what he needed to hear.

(If you ever need me or Falco finds out about us or whatever and you need to go I'll run to the ends of the universe with you)

Cheesy though it sounded, it gave the vulpine a weird sense of comfort. As if he had x-ray vision, he looked at the sneering ring that was hiding in the bedside table. That ring meant a life of stability, calm, relative comfort.

(disgust sex-less marriage disdain _divorce_ team destruction meaningless conversation)

* * *

Falco paced restlessly in his room, straining his ears, hoping, _praying_, Fox would come and tell him 'YES!' Then they would hug and kiss and fuck and his life was shaping up to be perfect. He couldn't contain his excitement for that wonderful life that was on its way.

There it was! Fox's acceptance... in form of footsteps!

"...I'm just saying, that tournament was stupid... Fox definitely should have won!"

"No doubt, I bet that Samus chick was on steroids or something."

"I doubt that. For someone on steroids, she's got nice..."

The voices of Peppy and Slippy faded off in the opposite direction they came. Falco resisted a deep growl that was forming in his throat. Damn it! When was that vulpine going to come tell him 'yes'?

His feeling of elation was starting to descend. He became more and more worried as the wall clock moved past noon. Fox wasn't having second thoughts was he? Did he even have first thoughts...?

"Hell, yeah! Of course he had first thoughts," the bird said aloud to no one but himself. "He... he loves me!"

Falco's own words did little to assure him. He could go and and ask... but that might just scare him. But if he was going to tell him yes, he should have told him by now, right? Fucking hell, this was going to drive him crazy. Time to chill out. Time to calm the _fuck _down. Nothing was going wrong. His perfect life was on track. But, just to make sure...

Falco went to the desk at the other side of the room and produced a key from the inside of the jacket. He looked around nervously, as if a prying eye would be hiding in the walls, watching what he was about to do. He reached for the top drawer of the desk and stuck the key in the electromagnetic lock. He waited for a moment, and a tiny mechanical voice spoke: **KEY IDENTIFIED. PLEASE PRESENT PASSWORD**. If anyone knew about this, they might call Falco strange for putting this kind of security on a desk drawer lock, but he _had _to keep what was in here secret. Even from Fox.

"There's no glitter in the gutter," Falco said aloud, recalling a song that Fox had described as his favourite.

**PASSWORD ACCEPTED. INITIATING EYE AND PHALLIC SCAN.**

Falco let his hand float lazily in front of the keyhole's eye. A red beam traced everything from his fingerprints to the birthmark on the bottom of his palm, top to bottom, left to right. The light went yellow, and the paranoid freak pulled his pants down. The yellow light now swept over his penis, creating a warming sensation he'd learned to stop popping boners to.

**EYE AND PHALLIC SCAN COMPLETE. ACCESS GRANTED**.

The tedious security measures completed, the drawer slid open, revealing nothing except one little orange bottle. Double checking for potential spies, he reached in and pulled the little packet of pills.

They were placebos. Why was he hiding a mere bottle of sugar pills?

The little white pills were not actually placebos. It was an extra security measure Falco had placed in addition to the key, password, eye, and phallic scan. Inside the bottle were Prozac tablets, recommended by the therapist that nobody knew he saw.

Lately, he'd been feeling a lot happier. He was making a lot of money doing a job he loved, and he had a loving boyfriend, and he was getting married. However, his concerns about Fox's disposition concerning marriage (I might not be getting married) had got him all riled up, and he popped two Prozac into his mouth.

He was supposed to have stopped taking these two years ago.

Falco had begun seeing his therapist after the Sauria incident. He'd quit Star Fox sometime prior, but after hearing about the danger everyone was in, he'd rushed into action. After Falco had officially rejoined, depression had set in. He missed his space delinquent friends, but he'd wanted to be with Fox even more.

Long story short, here he was, taking long expired Prozac. Here he was, metaphorically spreading open his arms to welcome to the warm, fuzzy feeling. The false happiness he'd come to appreciate so much. Might he be feeling better? Yes, yes he did. He imagined he was standing in a pond surrounded by hundreds of his beautiful Fox, wearing his ring and smiling at him.

Hallucinations were perhaps the only bad side effect.

* * *

Wolf's phone was vibrating on the floor next to the piece of crap he called a mattress.

"Unhf..." he groaned. Who the hell was calling him at twelve thirty in the afternoon? Didn't they know he was asleep until at least two? Flailing his arm lazily, he felt it brush his phone and he hoisted it up as if it were a two hundred pound weight. His good eye squinted as he read the caller ID.

_THAT guy  
555-2222_

"Fox, what is it?" he grumbled as it flipped open.

"Video phone, Wolf. I can see the wax in your ears," came the reply.

Hard as it were to make himself angry at Fox, he begrudgingly turned the phone so he was staring into that blinding screen.

(I'm glad you called)

"Hey there, sleepyhead!" he said, sounding strangely chipper.

"Fox, have you been smokin' up?" Wolf asked with a tired grin.

"...Yes. Why?"

"There had to be a reason you are so happy, after booting me out last night."

"Right, right. I'm sorry about that," Fox said guiltily, giving a shy smile. "Something... intense, to say the least, happened."

Wolf notched an eyebrow. He was curious as to what had made his lover send him crawling back to his abandoned space station of a home in the dark sky.

(I really don't wanna know)

(really)

"Well..." Fox began quietly. The vulpine looked almost scared, as if Wolf would reach through the phone and throttle him.

(I have to tell him)

(He doesn't have to tell me)

(He has to know)

(I really don't wanna know)

"Falco proposed to me last night," he spat, immediately looking at something at the wall that was evidently very interesting. "Huh," he said. "That spider is freakishly large."

Fox made a point of not looking at Wolf's stunned expression. His one eye was wide, pupils dilated, and his mouth hung slightly agape. "H-he... he _what_?!"

"I haven't answered him yet!" Fox cut in quickly, returning his face to the screen. "I swear! I've been in my room all morning!"

Wolf wasn't impressed. His world had just been rocked and he hadn't even gotten a full twelve hour sleep yet. A lone claw scratched an itch on his furry neck absently. What was he supposed to say?

(Don't marry him you can not you are mine)

He very well couldn't tell his lover not to marry Falco. Fox himself had told him he was just a side dish. The other man. A spicy garden salad he bit into when the turkey wasn't looking. He had no right to...

(Don't)

"Wolf...?"

(lose me)

"Please say something. I'm really confused right now," Fox whispered. Wolf's silence was deafening. He was desperate for his lover's help.

"What, what, do you, erm... What do you want?"

"I.." Fox trailed off. What did he want?

(stability safety friendship a team fun excitement rough sex Wolf)

He wanted things that both Wolf and Falco could give him, but he also wanted things that neither of them could provide with a gun to their heads. Falco was the stability, safety, friendship of his team. Wolf was fun, excitement, rough sex.

He was Wolf. The vulpine didn't know which outweighed the other.

"I'm not sure."

"Well _that _doesn't help!" Wolf snapped. His fur stood on end. He was just so _angry._

(wanted to cry again)

"I don't want to be the previews in some shitty romantic comedy. I'm not the Wedding Singer. If you marry Falco... I'm not sneaking around with you if you're going to commit your life to that fucking bird."

"I know..."

"Tell me soon, please."

"I will," Fox conceded. Wolf's face vanished from the screen, and the screen read: **Call Ended**

Wolf tossed his phone down in the exact same spot he'd found it. A rectangular dent had formed in the carpeting over the many years of not having a desk, or bedside table, or anything of the sort. Dingy drapes hung on one of the windows, and suspicious stains covered various points on flowery wallpaper. A cell phone and Wolf's own body were the only signs that sentient life still inhabited this dead place.

Without hope of getting back to sleep after that ordeal, the lupine hoisted himself out of bed and picked something out of a nearby hamper that looked and smelled clean. He was _royally _pissed about this proposal, but there were things even a former murderer had to do.

* * *

Star Wolf arrived at the convention three hours later.

"Do we seriously have to do this?" groaned Leon. "This is Panther's thing!"

"Yes!" the cat snapped. "You two promised me you would come to the Cornerian Romance Novels Convention! I must find the perfect quote to steal so I can say it to my dear Krystal."

"Why did we promise this again?" Leon asked his leader.

"..."

"Oi! Boss, you in there?"

"Huh? Oh... damn it. I was drifting... sorry. You were saying something about... like, like a puppet show or... something?"

"Never mind."

The CRNC was as to be expected: filled with doting, mostly middle-aged divorced women. They wandered from booth to booth like droves, oohing and aahing at famous romance novelists reading passages from their novels and explaining the thematic elements. Wolf couldn't help but notice that some of the writers at this convention were strikingly handsome. Leon had always said, "Anyone who writes romance novels is undoubtedly a huge nerd who masturbates to anime porn."

Nobody here _looked _like they were into that sort of thing, but, then again, you never know everything about a man's private life. As Panther darted into the crowds, Leon and Wolf wandered aimlessly around, snickering at old ladies trying to co-erce some of the writers into having sex with them.

"...I don't have any teeth you know. That drives men _wild..._"

(Disgusting)

"...and _then_, I would cover you in..."

(Intriguing)

"...ten years ago I was a Playguy centerfold!"

"Woah, now!" Leon cried. "You're on your own, buddy. I got me a centerfold to seduce." With that, the lizard was gone. Wolf had never figured him to be one for relationships, but he supposed everyone needed some every once in a while.

A bright red banner in the back of the enormous building caught Wolf's eye: _Gay Interest_. He was certainly interested and - after making sure his team mates weren't watching - slid into the gay territory.

Here, it was even more crowded than in the rest of the convention, although now there were lots and lots of extremely effeminate men. Wolf found himself thinking about how glad he was Fox wasn't like most of these guys.

(could be more submissive though)

A heavy twitch ran through the lupine's body as he resisted the urge to throw a punch at a hand that had found its way onto his rear end. Walking along, he found a booth that was almost empty. Figuring it would be a while before he found the rest of Star Wolf, he made his way over to it casually.

"Hi there!" a (extremely) good-looking dog greeted him.

"Hey..." Wolf said nervously. There was a large poster behind the author that read 'You Married My Side Dish'. Needless to say, the lupine was already hooked. He wanted to ask for a copy of the book, but his reading skills were... finite.

"Could you tell me a bit about your book?" Wolf asked him.

The man smiled enthusiastically. "Sure thing," he replied.

The author of 'You Married My Side Dish' launched into the story of two lovers who worked at the same company, during a time when homosexuality was punishable by murder and jail time. He explained how a gay rights activist came and swept one of the lovers off of his feet and proposed to him two years later.

"So... the guy just left his lover?" Wolf asked.

"Well, no! The lover became something of a 'side-dish' so to speak. The swept man wanted to preserve what he had with the abandoned one, so he kept sneaking around with him."

"Did he marry the activist?" Wolf was trying to avoid sounding like a rabid romance freak, but this guy might have valuable advice for him.

The author smiled, this time a wary grin. "Well, I can't tell you _that_. But here," he reachd under his desk and pulled a leather-bound

(rather thick must be wordy)

novel.

"Please take it," he said.

"Oh... uh... thanks," Wolf said gruffly. He turned on his heel with the novel under his arm.

"Hey, wait!" the author shouted. Wolf stopped dead and turned back to him. The writer was holding a small piece of paper with some numbers scrawled on it.

"My name is Darix Hannel. Give me a call and let me know what you thought of it."

"Uh, sure," Wolf replied nervously. He grabbed Darix's number and ran off before anything else could be said.

* * *

Just as he was stuffing the novel under his chair, the rest of Star Wolf arrived in the parking lot.

"Wolf!" Leon called.

(shit)

"'Bout fuckin' time you two got back," Wolf grumbled, trying to sound angry. "How'd it go with Ms. Middle-Aged-Ex-Centerfold?" he added smartly.

"Hahaha," laughed the torturist sarcastically, saying nothing more as he climbed into the cockpit of his Wolfen.

Panther stalked up to him, looking rather triumphant. "Baby," he said. "your heart is the only hole for my key."

Wolf made a face. "That was fucking shit."

The cat's face crumpled. "But..." he muttered. "That book was the Lylat Times #1 Bestseller!"

"They always are, aren't they?" Wolf climbed into his own ship, feeling the hardness of the book under his ass. "Come on, let's just get the fuck out of here. I'm going have to wash the smell of dentures off of my coat."

His team's ships hummed quietly before taking an abrupt jolt out of the CRNC lot. As they took off into space, he looked back at the building that housed Darix Hannel and carefully touched the book under his chair.


	3. Touched by Steak

**Guns 'N' Boners**

_fuck you_

_ fuck me _

_fuck us all _

_fucking shut up _

_oh how i fucking hate you _

_why wont you run away with me because you fucking suck thats why fuck you...._

"Ah!" Wolf sat up straight in bed. His cell phone politely informed him that it was eleven thirty at night. He'd gone to bed half an hour ago. Groaning, the lupine allowed himself to fall face-down out of bed and shuffle lazily towards his kitchen.

Maybe 'kitchen' was too strong of a word. There was a decrepit old fridge and freezer, but no other appliances. The fire pit that had cooked many-a-charred meal and boiled hundreds of pots of water waited expectantly in the far corner of the yellow room. Opening the fridge, for a beer, Wolf debated making himself something to eat. With disgust, he cast his good eye over the fire pit. Slowly, his vision focused on the Arwing parked in the hangar. It was visible through a hole in the floor. Suddenly, an image of the Great Fox popped up in his mind. He imagined boarding the ship, creeping into Star Fox's kitchen with a turkey in hand and... and...

A spot of weak flooring below him. Wolf gave himself a mental slap in the face. What was he thinking? He'd never even _considered _breaking into the Great Fox to cook before.

"I'm not breaking in. I have the security code."

Carefully, as if surrounded by landmines he approached the freezer and thrust open its dusty top. Sitting there, in all of its frozen splendor, was a six-inch steak just _begging _to be cooked in a hot, stainless steel convectional stove-top. Vaguely, Wolf considered that his desire to use his rivals' stove stemmed from the animosity he felt towards Falco at the moment.

That _could _be it...

(but I don't give a shit)

It was a good thing he didn't _live _with Panther and Leon, or Wolf would certainly be causing much suspicion amongst his teammates. He doubted the two of them even knew _where _he lived. The lupine recalled being asked once or twice... and telling them to piss off because it 'wasn't any of your business, y'hear?'

Cradling a fat steak in his lap, Wolf set his ship on autopilot, having memorized the path to the Great Fox after hundreds of trips there. Lylat was quiet, and for that reason, so was Star Fox. They just docked their cruiser above Lylat and floated there, waiting for some great cataclysm to befall the galaxy so the ship would jump back into action. So Star Fox could smile brightly for swooning teenagers and the vicious press. But for now, there was nothing going on in the world that an Arwing couldn't handle. Andross was dead. What could possibly go wrong?

As the Wolfen navigated itself along the chosen path, Wolf pulled the book he'd taken from the CRNC out from under his chair, giving a tiny moan of relief when the hard material was out from under his behind. It went without saying that the mercenary couldn't _read _as well as some of his peers. Sure, he could talk to his team mates about an assignment that had come in through a holo-text... but, a novel? He'd never had a reason to read a novel. Even Fox knew that his childhood wasn't filled with reading books. Wolf's education had been in the art of kicking ass.

Maybe, hopefully, the book didn't use big words or any fancy language. It was a gay interest romance book, how could it possibly be very wordy?

Cautiously, the lupine cracked open the book and scanned it as though it were instructions on how to dismantle a bomb. The first page looked simple enough. No secret codes... just words. Words he could read. But this was no good. He needed to get to the part of the book where the conflict was _resolved_. The table of contents indicated that chapter twenty-seven was entitled "A Decision Is Made".

"Gotta love those convenient titles," Wolf said aloud as he flipped to that page.

Ten minutes later, Wolf was twitching violently. The Star Wolf leader was trying very, _very _hard not to toss the book into the vacuum of space. Clenching it tightly in his paws, he tried to soothe himself.

_It's okay. Let's just take it one word at a time. You're not stupid. You can do this_.

Sighing miserably, he opened it up to chapter twenty-seven and tried again.

* * *

Falco Lombardi was _wide _awake. So _awake_. It made his eyes _burn_ how awake he was. He turned onto his left side. Nothing. His right? Equally pointless. Laying on his stomach made him have to urinate... There was just no right way to sleep.

Grunting, he fumbled around in the dark for the remote and turned on the forty-two inch plasma he'd insisted on buying for his bedroom. Might as well enjoy the damn thing.

"Don't miss 'Kinky Lesbian Adventures', tonight on HBO..."

_Click_

"...you are _not _the father..."

_Click_

"...just a little dab, that's all you need!"

After flipping in this fashion for a while, Falco headed back to _Kinky Lesbian Adventures_. Fox wasn't around to yell at him for it. After all, it wasn't like he'd explicitly stated he was _gay_. Two very attractive blondes kissed eagerly as they tore off each other's bras. It appeared that he had tuned in just in time for the action. He could feel his little bird standing at attention.

* * *

As Wolf's ship pulled up to the Great Fox, a mechanical voice prompted him to give up the security code. Normally, he had to fish around the Wolfen to find the sheet of paper with the numbers written on it. He'd come here so many times though, that it was no longer necessary.

**Security Code Accepted. Opening Hangar Bay Doors.**

Steak under his arm, he hopped out of his Wolfen and crept towards the elevator that lead up to the bridge. He silently prayed that Peppy or Slippy wasn't awake doing some late-night scouting at the controls. Falco would be sleeping like a log, no doubt. Wolf chose not to think about what Fox would look like right now. He didn't need the distraction of picturing the Star Fox leader naked.

Despite the fact that his steak was uncooked, the smell of the freshly fried meat wafted into his nostrils. Half-dreaming, Wolf took a quick look around the control deck. It was empty. R.O.B., the ship's navigator, was shut-down - asleep, maybe - in the far corner. Sighing in relief, he headed down the memorized path which he knew lead to the ship's kitchen.

A convection oven had never looked so beautiful. Even in the darkness (too risky to turn the light on), it seemed to shine. An angel in the world of culinary goodness. A well thought-out and flawless plan of passive revenge.

"One might think me slightly maniacal," Wolf said aloud, surprising even himself with his choice of vocabulary. "Fuck 'em," he added more gruffly. "I can have one goddamn good meal. I deserve it." Carefully, as if the slightest click of the dial would alert one of the Great Fox's sleepers, he turned the stove's largest burner to the required temperature. While waiting, he decided it was time to root around in the team's fridge.

"Falco's gotta keep beer in here somewhere," he mumbled as he pushed aside cartons of orange juice, organic cabbage, bacon (pigma dengar), milk. "Clever bastard." The alcohol was carefully hidden behind an industrial-sized tub of yogurt. Who the hell eats yogurt these days? Who?!

Just as he popped the tab on the bottle, a sizzling from the pan informed him that the pre-heating process was complete. He unraveled the steak as if it were a holy object and basked in the _sizzle _as it slapped the pan.

(life is good life is hard life is fun)

"Wolf?!"

The lupine's hairs immediately stood on end. Thankfully, he managed to resist the urge to jump so high in shock that his head would slam into the ceiling.

"What the hell are you _doing_?"

"Jesus, Fox. Thank god it's you," Wolf breathed, the adrenaline from fear seeping out of him. "You scared the shit out of me."

Fox didn't respond, just raised an eyebrow and slowly moved towards the stove. "Are you... Are you c-_cooking_? Here...?"

The circuits that connected the lupine's brain to his mouth seemed to short out. He stared dumbly between the frying meat and Fox's heavily confused stare.

"Yyyyyes?" he replied as if it were a question.

"Oh..." Fox sounded strangely calm. "But, uh... wh-why are you doing it here? And not at _your _place?"

Again, the good eye flailed desperately between his food (which smelled _sooooo _good) and his _food_. "Well... you know, I, uh... don't have an oven at home so..."

"What if you got caught by someone besides me? What if one of my teammates came in here and saw you?" The tiniest hint of anger was starting to enter Fox's voice.

"I know, I know... Fox, I'm sorry. This was dumb. I just haven't had a real meal in so long that I..."

The vulpine took a deep breath to calm himself. He could at least take solace in the fact that he'd caught him instead of Slippy or Peppy. Or even worse, Falco Lombardi. Wolf was still rambling, but Fox had lost track about eight stammered "I"'s ago.

"Look," he interrupted, cutting off his lover. "this isn't that big of a deal. Just come to my room."

Sighing in relief, Wolf nodded while motioning over to the pan, which made a very confusing head gesture. "S-sure, just let me finish cooking this."

Fox just rolled his eyes in response. "Fine. Whatever. Just hurry it up before someone else comes down."

* * *

Were those voices coming from the ship's kitchen? Falco temporarily turned his attention away from the kinky lesbians to turn an ear down to the Great Fox's source of nourishment. The sound was faint, but it was reminiscent of voices. Then again, it could've just been the kinky lesbians, because he sure as hell wasn't even listening to what they were saying as they touched each other.

"...before someone else comes down."

So there _were _people downstairs. He sincerely hoped Slippy wasn't trying his hand at cooking again. The Great Fox was inexplicably unequipped with a fire extinguisher, and the VFD had not been at _all _pleased the last time they had paid a visit.

"Must be time for damage control," the avian sighed as he tossed his blankets aside. His feet hit the cold floor and sent a shiver through his spine. Why was Fox the only one on the team who got carpeting? Perhaps Falco would call up a meeting tomorrow and raise the issue. Slippy and Peppy would surely agree with him.

For now, it was time to put a stop this insanity. Fully aware that he was still erect, he threw on what he liked to call his "Baggy Robe" and started for the kitchen.

It was even colder in the hall. Maybe he would have to petition for full carpeting. Now _that _would raise some complaints: "That's too expensive", "We don't have time for that", "Slippy might get stuck!", "If Slippy cooks again, we'll be _really _screwed with carpeting!"

The voices were becoming clearer. Now he completely recognized the voice of his fiancee-to-be, Fox. He couldn't quite stick a feather on the other one though... Falco was very perplexed to discover that there were no lights on. Was the toad trying to cook in his sleep? Good thing Fox had noticed because that would have been--

"Oh, shit."

(disastrous)

Something snapped in the avian's mind. He was not even close to sure what to make of this.

Wolf O'Donnell - one of his team's greatest arch-enemies - was standing in front of _their _stove, with some kind of meat cooking on it. Worse, he was holding _his_ fiancee (to be) in his arms.

"Wolf..." Falco said darkly. "Let him go. No one has to get hurt." He was silently thankful that the Baggy Robe also housed a small pistol he liked to have handy, for those _just in case _situations. "Please don't hurt him."

Wolf snorted and released the 'prisoner', who didn't move from his position. "What the hell? I wasn't going to hurt him."

"Well excuse me," Falco replied as he slowly traced the pattern of the gun. "You have to understand that I would jump to conclusions when my leader is being held by someone such as yourself."

"Falco..." Fox whispered, mimicking the other man's method of speech. "Calm down. I know this has gotta be confusing for you, but just let me explain."

"Explain what?"

Hoping for some form of guidance, Fox nervously turned to the lupine, who just gave him a blank stare in return. Grimacing in disgust, he turned his attention to an increasingly upset Falco.

"Wolf and I are... ummm..."

"Come on!" hissed the bird. "I'm getting pissed off now! Somebody better speak the _fuck up_!" Fox couldn't help but gasp as his... boyfriend(?) drew the hidden gun, training it on Wolf.

His eyes burned with rage and his hands trembled slightly. It is also worth noting that his erection had dissipated completely.

Wolf was a tightly coiled cobra. Not doing anything to draw the bird's bullets, but ready to pounce. His heart was pounding resolutely. All he could feel was fierce instinct to protect Fox, even at the cost of his own llife. It was a feeling he had encountered before, during the Apariod invasion...

"Falco, why are you doing this...?" Fox asked him quietly.

"I-I don't know!" Falco responded loudly, almost screaming. "I don't fucking know okay? But I'm going to do something even stupider unless somebody tells me what this is!"

Cracks were already forming in the fragile mind of Falco Lombardi. The water was loose. He twitched and fired a warning shot as Wolf moved, standing up straight, doing his best to look dignified.

"Fox and I have been fucking behind your back."

The object of Wolf's statement immediately clenched his eyes shut. That was too _blunt_. This was bad, he should've spoken before--

"W-what?"

No one responded to the stammer. All three of them were dead silent. Little sparks of rage, fear, confusion, and most of all, sadness fettered through the room. Fox had nightmares about this. He _knew _that this was how it was all going to end. By somebody getting _caught_.

Wolf spoke up again, ignoring Falco completely. "Fox, I'm sorry. This is my fault. If I hadn't come here we wouldn't be getting caught." He turned his back to the two of them. "Damn it, the steak burned. Ah hell, it's trash now."

Nonchalantly, as if he were cooking the three of them dinner, he carefully removed the meat and tossed it in the garbage disposal. He could feel the laser aim of the gun on his back as he carried the pan to the sink and drained the grease, wincing at the steamy hiss it gave.

"How..." Falco began, choking on his next question. "How long? How long has this... this..."

"About three months now," was the lupine's casual reply. He placed the used pan back on top of the stove so it wouldn't burn anything. Anyone knew he couldn't afford to pay for those kinds of repairs. "In fact, we met up at that nice cafe in Corneria's South End. We made arrangements while you were bleedin' the lizard."

_Bleedin' the _what?

The gun shook even more violently, and the ruined dam that was Falco's brain only broke further. "You... Fox.. We were getting married, damn it!"

Fox sighed. The spotlight was on him now. He didn't want to have to drop this A-bomb now, but he didn't have a choice.

"No, we weren't, Falco," he said quietly, trying to keep the bird's gaze. "We never were." A huge grin broke across Wolf's face.

"You're turning him down?" he asked, sounding somewhat gleeful.

"Y-you, you are turning me down?"

"I'm sorry, but... yeah."

That did it. The final stone that held the works together exploded, and the water flowed freely, corroding any sense that Falco had left. He felt like he was watching the scene from above them as the gun fired, hitting his leader square in the knee. From the ceiling, he just watched silently as Fox screamed in pain and hit the floor. Watched as Wolf rushed to him and began screaming obscenities at his body.

And still, he looked on his own body stalked out of the room, apparently satisfied with committing nothing more than a minor injury.


End file.
